


Savour

by Bellflower



Category: Samurai Warriors
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-07-19
Packaged: 2017-12-20 17:59:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/890190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellflower/pseuds/Bellflower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Can't sleep, Mitsuhide?”</p>
<p>The man in question looked down at his questioner; he smiled softly, the black hair of his fringe moving with him as he shook his head.</p>
<p>“I could, if I wished to,” he replied. “But this is a night I wish to savour, Lord Motochika.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Savour

“Can't sleep, Mitsuhide?”

The man in question looked down at his questioner; he smiled softly, the black hair of his fringe moving with him as he shook his head.

“I could, if I wished to,” he replied. “But this is a night I wish to savour, Lord Motochika.”

Motochika smirked in response to that, and sat up. Pushing the sheet of their shared futon away, he shifted until he was sat behind Mitsuhide and wrapped his arms fully around the younger samurai's torso. It was a comfortable, intimate embrace, one that Mitsuhide willingly relaxed into. Moments like this would be something to treasure even if they weren't so rare; the fact that they _were_ made them all the more precious.

The world they lived in was not one accommodating of a love like theirs, after all. Distance, circumstance and duty were all against them, and while Mitsuhide was not the kind of man to feel bitter about such things, there was a part of him that was forever longing for the company of the Hero of Tosa.

“Oh?” murmured Motochika, mouth so close to Mitsuhide's ear that Mitsuhide could feel his lover's warm breath against it. “Does that mean you need a taste of pleasure again? You cannot truly savour something unless you are experiencing it.”

An appropriately blunt, shameless comment for Motochika to come out with; Mitsuhide could not help but laugh softly in response. He turned his head to the side in an attempt to look at the other man, brown eyes warm in the candlelight. 

“It sounds to me like _you_ want another taste.”

“Of course.” Motochika's hands begin to shift, finding and tracing the numerous battle scars that were dotted all over Mitsuhide's chest. “My desire for you runs as vast and deep as the oceans; it cannot be sated.”

“You are ridiculous, to say such things.”

“No, Mitsuhide; the word you are searching for is 'inspired.'”

They've had this kind of exchange so many times before that it makes Mitsuhide smile just to hear it yet again; they talk to each other in a way they don't with _anyone_ else. Two very different men with two very different ways of going about life, connecting in spite of and because of those differences and enjoying every quiet moment they get to spend together.

Mitsuhide closed his eyes and leaned his head back against Motochika's shoulder.

“Inspired... in some ways, perhaps.”

Motochika seemed to take this as an invitation to go ahead, because his hands dropped lower and traced the crease of Mitsuhide's thighs slowly. Apparently he intended to put his hands to good use, which was never a bad thing, but there was something that Mitsuhide wanted more right now. After a few moments of indulgence he shifted out of his lover's grasp, turned around and slipped his arms around Motochika's neck.

“Are you tired, Lord Motochika?” Mitsuhide asked softly, a shy but playful smile dancing on his lips. “Do you only have energy enough to move your hands, or are you holding back?”

Motochika's look of confusion dissolved in an instant, replaced with a smug, self-satisfied expression The smirk that accompanied it somehow managed to be the most indecent thing Mitsuhide had ever seen; considering how long he had known the daimyo of Shikoku, that was no small accomplishment.

“A challenge, Mitsuhide?” Motochika's usually deep voice had grown deeper still, his interest obvious in every husky word he spoke. “You know I never back down from a challenge, especially when it involves you.”

Mitsuhide's expression softened, smile growing sincere. He drew back one of his arms so he could cup the fringe-covered half of lover's face and stroke his thumb across the perfectly-styled hair.

“I know.”

Some kind of emotion flickered in Motochika's eyes, though Mitsuhide wasn't given the time to consider it because the other man initiated an immediately passionate and overwhelming kiss. This was clearly not going to be the kind of lovemaking where there was a lot of talking; communicating through touch was going to be a necessity, Mitsuhide thought in a rather dazed manner.

It took a short while for him to get his message across, because it was somewhat difficult to communicate any unspoken words that weren't 'need you' or 'more,' but eventually Mitsuhide did manage to get Motochika flat on his back and proceeded to settle on his chest. Resting his hands flat against the broader man's firm muscle, Mitsuhide took a few seconds to appreciate the view before him before he leaned down for another heated kiss. It was a slightly awkward position, but right now he didn't really care. Motochika was making deep and unrestrained sounds of enjoyment in the back of his throat, his hands wandering and touching all of the places he knew were particularly sensitive on Mitsuhide's body, and that made almost any kind of inconvenience worth it.

“The vial?” Motochika murmured the words into Mitsuhide's ear when they parted; Mitsuhide merely nodded in response. Shifting back, he repositioned himself on his lover's thighs so he could press their erections together, close his eyes and rock his hips, creating a wonderfully pleasant friction that made him forget what his original intentions were. Motochika groaned, but was apparently not so forgetful, because after a long moment Mitsuhide felt a slicked finger trace along the crease of his buttocks. His eyes snapped open and he grew still, staring down at Motochika. Motochika laughed breathlessly and held out the vial with his non-slicked hand.

Laughing himself, Mitsuhide took it and made quick work of slicking one of his own hands. He threw the bottle to the side after (a careless act by his standards) and quickly got to work, wrapping his long, slender fingers around Motochika's erection. It gave him a thrill, as it always did, to feel it quiver in response.

Better still was his tattooed lover's reaction; that shameless moan was a powerful reminder of just how desired Mitsuhide was by Motochika, a fact that the younger samurai still couldn't wrap his head around sometimes.

A quick few strokes (and some very prominent attempts at thrusting by Motochika) later, and his part of the preparation was complete. Mitsuhide leaned in while his lover's strong fingers were pressed inside his body, reacting to every little jolt of pleasure with a loud cry of pleasure; for someone usually so soft-spoken and quiet, he was very loud and responsive when it came to intimacy like this. It was something that embarrassed Mitsuhide when he stopped to think about it, but now was certainly not a time for thinking, and so every sound flowed unrestrained and free.

Then it was complete, and Mitsuhide wasted no time at all when the fingers slipped fully away from his body. Quickly getting into position, he reached behind himself to hold Motochika's erection steady before settling down onto it.

_Oh_...

There was a brief twinge of pain, no doubt caused by his rush to get this going, but it didn't bother Mitsuhide for more than a few moments. There were few things in the world that could match the pleasure of having Motochika inside him; Motochika obviously felt the same, judging by the look on his face right now. During moments like this they could forget about everything and everyone else, and simply bask in the connection they had formed.

Motochika's hands settled on Mitsuhide's waist, holding him steady, and in turn the dark-haired man closed his eyes and began to move.

It was never going to last long, worked up as they both were; a few long moments of Mitsuhide riding in earnest and Motochika was gasping and coming, his lover's name on his lips as his fingers curled against Mitsuhide's flushed, damp skin. He thrust up as they did so, erection hitting Mitsuhide's prostate, and the wave of pleasure this sent coursing through the younger samurai's body almost sent him over the edge himself. _Almost_. It took Motochika's hand to do that; his strong, calloused hand stroking Mitsuhide's erection in earnest.

Afterwards, when he had resurfaced into conscious thought and carefully slid Motochika out of him, Mitsuhide practically collapsed along the length of the other man's body and pressed a tired smile into his skin.

He was exhausted, and they were both incredibly messy and sticky, but moving away right now was out of the question.

“Have I satisfied the terms of your challenge?” Motochika asked eventually, voice so deep and openly adoring that Mitsuhide would have blushed, were he capable of it right now. Instead he chuckled, closing his eyes and shifting minutely so he could rest his head above his lover's heart.

Nothing helped him to sleep better than the sound of it beating strong.

“You could never fail to, my Lord.”

**Author's Note:**

> The first fic I write in a long time that gets past one thousand words, and it's a smutfic. I hope you enjoyed it, and be assured, there will be more where this came from at some point.


End file.
